


daybreak

by gettingby



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Canon Compliant, Choking, F/F, Fingering, Fluff, Gray-ace Simon Snow, Morning Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Porn Without Plot, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, demisexual Simon Snow, fem!SnowBaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25405462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gettingby/pseuds/gettingby
Summary: Fem!SnowBaz“I had a dream about you.”“Hm?”“I woke up before it got to the good part, though.” Her hands slide down from my waist to my arse. I bite back a moan as she slips her fingers between my thighs - tantalizingly close to where I’m getting wetter by the second.Baz hates getting up early - but if Simon wakes her up like this, she can’t complain, can she?
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 8
Kudos: 142





	daybreak

Simon’s always been an early riser.

It bothered me to no end when we were in school. I would toss and turn and burrow my head into the blankets to tune out the sound of her crashing around the en suite and slamming her wardrobe open every morning.

She always woke up at the crack of dawn - before it during winter - to get to breakfast as quickly as possible. Which I thought was ridiculous, since breakfast was served for _two hours_ , and she could inhale an entire fry up in minutes.

These days, I don’t mind. I still have trouble sleeping, though not as much as I used to. Being held by Simon’s arms under the canopy of her wings certainly helps. Sure, I have to stuff my face into the pillow in an effort to block out the sudden brightness when she gets out of bed and takes her wings with her, and yank her blanket over me to make up for the loss of warmth. But after this past year, I’m never going to take the act of Simon actually getting out of bed for granted again.

It’s Thursday, which is Simon’s day off from her job at the university bookshop. That means that she doesn’t leave before 9. (Which I still can’t believe - as soon as I came to Uni, I took full advantage of the option to schedule all my classes after lunch.) She usually uses the extra time to make tea, warm up blood and set both on my bedside table. I’m eternally grateful - I’m not sure if I _could_ wake up without drinking a hot, caffeinated beverage in bed.

I don’t know what time it is right now - all I know is that at some point, Simon’s alarm went off, and she’s still wrapped around me. I frown and force myself awake - she gets morose if she spends too much time in bed in the mornings.

“Get up, you oaf,” I mumble, elbowing her in the chest.

“I’m up,” she answers, and something about her voice, rough with sleep, sends a shiver down my spine.

“Then why aren’t you making me my tea?” I huff.

I feel her press a kiss to the back of my neck. “I had a dream about you.”

“Hm?”

“I woke up before it got to the good part, though.” Her hands slide down from my waist to my arse. I bite back a moan as she slips her fingers between my thighs - tantalizingly close to where I’m getting wetter by the second.

She slides my silk shorts down to expose my bare arse and skims her finger across my clit. Fuck, it feels good. Simon’s not always comfortable with sex - and she doesn’t have as much of a sex drive as I do, which is perfectly fine with me. (I have a wide assortment of toys to make up the difference.) But when she does get randy, I’m just as desperate for her as that night she kissed me in a burning forest.

She’s rubbing gentle circles around my clit, never getting too close. I’m too sensitive there for direct stimulation, and she knows it. She knows how to make me fall apart within minutes. But right now, she’s teasing me - stroking my inner thigh with the thumb of her other hand, catching my labia on the downstroke but never coming any closer.

“ _Simon_ ,” I whine, pushing back against her hand. She chuckles and withdraws completely. I groan in frustration. 

“So needy,” she teases, and I swallow thickly. She snakes her hand to my front and caresses my nipple - first with a gentle roll, and then a sharper tug. I moan, loudly. 

“That’s good, baby,” she whispers hotly in my ear. “You make such pretty noises.”

I practically purr at the praise. “Fuck me.”

“Not yet,” she says, running her teeth along my ear. Her hand migrates down from my breast to my stomach, where she rubs circles in the way that drives me mad. I push back against her thigh, hoping for some friction, some pressure, _anything_. My skin is a live wire, and I can feel my wetness dripping to my inner thigh.

I wrap the blanket around us tighter so that it slips between my thighs. I squeeze them together and rock - it’s something, but not _enough_.

“What are you - _oh_.” Simon’s hand stills against my stomach. I freeze, suddenly self-conscious. Crowley - I’m humping that blanket like _teenager_. Or, well, like fifteen-year-old Baz in the mornings after Simon had left for breakfast, imagining a head full of bronze curls between my thighs.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” she says, pressing her palm firmly against the blanket and massaging my clit through it. I resume rocking. It’s so good, and I’m so wet, and her other hand is wrapping gently around my throat, and -

I come with a strangled moan. Simon sucks a kiss into my neck and maintains pressure on my clit through the aftershocks. “Crowley,” I breathe. She laughs against the nape of my neck.

“Good, huh? Think you can go again?”

”Sod off, you know I can.” In fact, Simon knows that after my first orgasm, I’m just about ready to burst with a second. She likes to tease me anyway.

“Let’s slow down,” she whispers. “My 9am class was cancelled.”

“Oh,” I breathe. Simon’s hand slips back between my inner thighs, but this time my skin is covered in sticky liquid. She rubs it into my skin and I flush. 

“The professor tripped getting off the Tube and broke his ankle.”

She moves upward, closer and closer to the source. But then she stops and strokes my inner labia, careful to avoid my pussy. It’s torture.

I maintain my dignity long enough to respond to her statement. “That’s terrible.”

“I know,” she whispers. And now she’s teasing the opening of my hole, and I’m pushing back. My vagina is wet and pliant and it feels so _empty_. All I want is for Simon’s fingers to fill that space.

“Please,” I keen. Her motions around my hole grow firmer, and I grow more frustrated. “For magic’s sake, Simon!”

I’m cut off from further whinging when Simon slips one finger into me. It slides in so easily - like it was always meant to be there. She easily finds the bundle of nerves towards the front and rubs it tenderly. I throw my head back. Clitoral stimulation feels amazing, but this - the feeling of Simon’s fingers flexing expertly inside of me - is what haunts my dreams. No matter how hard I try, it never feels like this when I do it on my own or with a toy. I think it’s the shape of Simon’s fingers - shorter and thicker than my own - combined with the slight roughness of her skin. At any rate, I’m determined to enjoy them as much as possible. I bear down and squeeze around them. Simon moans and holds herself tightly against my back. She’s rocking now, too, and the motion feels good - I can tell by the way her breaths are coming shorter and quicker.

She stills, suddenly, and I wonder if she’s come. Simon rarely comes, and it’s beautiful to watch. 

But no - instead, she slips a second finger into me. And then a third. And oh, now there’s so much and I feel deliciously stretched out and full and _complete_...

As if she can read my mind, she squeezes me with her free hand and says, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I manage, between gasps. “So much, Simon, so much.”

The mounting strain in my voice must give away how close I am, because she returns her hand to the base of my neck and presses tight. I groan at the pressure. She’s so, so gentle with me, but I love this side of her - the rough, possessive, feral one.

Her other hand slips slightly out of my pussy, enough that she can press her palm against my arsehole. I suddenly recall a few weeks ago, when she came home to find me getting off in bed. She fucked my arse with my toy as I got myself off with my vibrator - and that memory, combined with the pressure of her hand, and the thrust of her fingers, and the clench against my throat, is enough to drive me over the edge.

I don’t even hear the sounds I’m making until I come down from the high of my earth-shattering orgasm. I realise I’m still sighing and moaning at an honestly alarming volume.

“How was that, darling?” Simon asks, pulling me close. I twist around in her arms to kiss her, properly, slipping her some tongue as an answer.

“Could I get you off?” I whisper against her lips.

She hums. “No, it’s okay. I don’t really want to.”

I nod and lean my head back, closing my eyes. My orgasm has settled into my bones, leaving me loose and relaxed and only a bit sleepy.

Simon kisses my nose and starts to roll out of bed. I protest, sitting up enough to wrap my arms around her torso and now-folded wings. She wriggles in my grasp.

“I’ve got to get up, Baz. I’m making pancakes.”

I perk up. “Really?”

She laughs as she extricates herself, finally turning around and bending down to kiss my temple. “Yes, really. Want to keep me company in the kitchen since you’re up?”

“Just bring my drinks to the bedroom,” I answer wickedly. “And the pancakes, too.”

“Fuck, you’re spoiled. I should’ve run the other way when Vera brought you dinner that first Christmas.” But her tone is good-natured, and I take the time to appreciate her arse in gym shorts as she walks to the kitchen. 

I give up on staying in bed after about ten seconds. When I enter the kitchen, she’s mixing the pancake batter, a spot of flour already settled in her hair. I reach in front of her to grab the kettle, and her face breaks into a smile. 

“Decided to get your lazy arse up, did you?”

“If you keep this up,” I say, filling up the kettle, “You’ll make a morning person of me yet.”

**Author's Note:**

> guess what! I delayed getting out of bed by posting this 🙃


End file.
